


yet you whine

by justrunamok



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Other, touch-starved reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:01:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justrunamok/pseuds/justrunamok
Summary: you have a need that is difficult to voice and obi-wan is less than accommodating
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 118





	yet you whine

It crept up on you like it always did.

The need, it was unnoticeable at first. An urge to hug him for a little while longer. Your palms wanting to just _touch_. 

Then it got worse. Waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat when you realized you’d rolled a tad too far from Obi-Wan’s warmth. Ducking out of a meeting to wrap your arms around yourself and _shudder_.

It was never this bad growing up. Or maybe it was, the need was so constant that you were used to it. Scurrying around in the grimy slums of Coruscant, whispering and gathering tidbits of information for whatever slimy crime lord you served, one of the planet’s many rats that made up an endless network of intel. 

But then you met Obi-Wan and the vague, precious thing that was your relationship started. 

_Good_ was not enough to describe him. Obi-Wan didn’t give to the world, he _poured_. Everything he had, he sacrificed for his people, and for the people who weren’t his but might as well have been. No one left him without having felt the mark of his compassion, his care. He was gentle but strong, tender but fierce, all these contradictions seamlessly woven into him, forming a man who lived to protect, a man you _loved_. 

Neither of you had said the words, but he knew how you felt. How could he not? Your affection was blatant, wide ripples in the Force that he was so intensely connected to, the soft strokes of your fingers over his cheekbones when you thought him asleep, your dogged determination to provide him with solace when the war hit too hard. Your love for him tinged every interaction, painting his universe in a warm, muted orange. Of course Obi-Wan knew.

But he didn’t know how you ached for touch, how you trembled on the nights he elected to stay at the temple. He couldn’t have, you were careful, taking the liberty to not worry him. Maker knew he had enough on his mind. You modelled yourself as his crutch, it never occurred to you that he could be yours. 

With the hours he kept, the two of you could only share your nights, Obi-Wan slipping quietly through the halls of your building to lay beside you as you slept. When the galaxy decided to take pity, he would come earlier, knocking on your door as the setting sun darkened your home.

You lived for those days, evenings filled with cheeky banter and lingering gazes. They were ethereal in how long they lasted, the hours stretching out as if some benevolent, higher being had allowed you to bask in the light of your lover by telling time to move slowly. 

It was one of those days when you made your mistakes. 

* * *

The war was sucking out life in the galaxy and Obi-Wan looked as if he could feel every candle the Empire cruelly snuffed out. It seeped into him, the war, clogging his throat and holding his heart in a grip so tight he struggled to breathe. 

Seeing the poison tracking up his veins, you became his crutch again. You provided him with the softness he needed, the care that he spent so much time giving to others. Even as you felt wooden and hollow with your own ache, you worked to alleviate his.

Obi-Wan was hunched over a holopad on your modest couch, absorbed in the data prep of his coming mission. It was a rare event when he brought work to your home, usually choosing to use the few hours he had to curl up with you. But the Confederacy was merciless and sought to steal even that from him.

And so he was oblivious to the slight tremor of your fingers as you packed away dinner, the hollow in you widening as you forced yourself to let him do what he needed to. _Do not trouble him with your childish whims._

Your task completed, you padded over to where Obi-Wan sat, wanting so desperately to have him encircle you in his warmth that you _fractured_. 

“Would you like me to wait for you, Obi?” You considered the even tone of your voice a success when there were cracks inside you, fault lines in your skin..

Eyes roving over the lines of information, the holopad casting his face in blue, he answered quickly, “No need, my darling, go to bed." 

That was your first mistake, you should have known that sleep would only taunt you with that same ache, what with Obi-Wan so near. Waiting for him would have been the more intelligent option. But true to your nature, you did what was asked of you, regardless of what you needed.

Your second mistake was getting up. You were tired after hours of tossing and turning, it did nothing to lessen the gaping rift.

You were selfish, giving in to the ache like this. "Obi, it’s so late. Come to bed." 

You received no answer from him, prompting you to move closer, an arm’s length away from where he sat. Engrossed in his work, he was indifferent to the passage of the moons as they inched closer to morning. 

This was bad, you shouldn’t be needling him to join you just to satisfy this incessant need to be held. You could attempt to deceive yourself by touting his welfare as your motive, but deep down, you knew it was a lie.

 _Selfish_ , you thought, shame flushing through you even as you pressed onwards. 

Gingerly resting a hand on his shoulder, you speak again, "Obi-Wan, you need to get some rest." 

_Selfish._

Startled out of his focus, cerulean flickered up at you, a small frown creasing his brow.

"I cannot, there is too much to do.” A small part of you withers at the inflection of his words, there is no masking his irritation. 

Your third mistake, continuing this fruitless cause.

You don’t know what it is that drives you to join him on the couch and tilt his face towards you. It might have been the piercing ache that yearned for his familiar touch or your legitimate worry for his health. Maybe both.

Your palm cups the coarse hair at his jaw as you voice your concerns, “You are tired, Obi-Wan. It weighs on you so heavily, the war is taking its’ toll,” There is no reading his expression, it unsettles you, the blank look on his face. “Please, come to bed with me.”

_Selfish._

The silence is thick and uncomfortable in how long it stays between you, your humiliation rising high as you fear that he sees you for what you are, sees your secret motive.

Obi-Wan is soft in his speech but the words might as well have been xenoboric acid, festering in their spite. 

“The war _is_ taking its’ toll on me, as it should on you. Thousands are dying as we speak,” The cock of his eyebrow is telling and you brace yourself. “Yet you whine for my company?" 

You tell yourself that he is tired and frustrated, that he does not mean to hurt you. But the little voice, the same one that accompanies the ache, whispers from the back of your mind. _It’s true, it’s true, he’s right, you are **selfish.**_

As if sensing your inner monologue, Obi-Wan pushes the blade in further, twisting it with that honey-sweet voice, "You do realize that my duty is to the Jedi and the people of the galaxy? Are you so self-centered that you cannot relinquish this petty desire of yours?" 

_Self-centered_ , perfectly worded. Your lover had always been an eloquent man.

The fingers you have lined against his beard tremble, a minute shake he cannot have noticed. You stand and plaster a small, sheepish smile on your lips. _An apology,_ you think.

"Forgive me, my love. I did not mean to overstep." 

Sleep does not come to you that night, and neither does Obi-Wan.

The door clicks open as Coruscant’s sun struggles to make itself known, the second click telling you it is safe to cry.

————-

The ache swallows you whole.

In the following days, you learn of the Jedi having sent Obi-Wan on a mission to derail a Confederacy takeover. You don’t see him for months.

You are lost to it, the ache in you is a canyon. The split rock of your body is an abyss where you languish in your regret and self-loathing.

The voice is loud, reminding him of how selfish you are for wanting Obi-Wan back in your home, near and safe. It jeers at you while you work in the day, _he is saving worlds, and all you do is pine for his touch._

At night, when you lie awake in bed, your frame curling small, the darker thoughts come. _Is that all you want him for? His touch? If he dies out there, fighting for the Republic, is that what you will miss most?_

What scares you the most is, you don’t know. Your mind is betraying you and you don’t know the answers to the questions it screams at you.

————-

_There is no emotion, but peace._

Not for the first time, Obi-Wan doubts his adherence to the Code, for remorse is certainly an emotion he had been feeling ever since he spat those words at you. He had been half-way across the galaxy when your soft voice played through his head. 

_Forgive me, my love._

The endearment had bounced off of him at the time but now, his knees threatened to give away under him as he remembered. You did not deserve how he had talked to you that night, you had every right to have wanted him gone. Yet you remained gentle, calling him _your love_ and letting him stay in your home.

Tense with his anticipation of whether you will welcome or spurn him, Obi-Wan knocks on your door. The responding _just a minute_ makes him smile, you never liked keeping anyone waiting, even if it _was_ an ungodly hour.

The flood of emotion on your face floors him, he hazily notes the shock and relief- _was that shame?_ As you scramble to compose yourself, Obi-Wan watches the way your palm rubs at your thigh, you’re nervous.

"Obi-Wan, are you okay? I heard about the mission.” Struck dumb under your gaze, he sees you rake your eyes over him, searching for injuries, softening when you find none. “Would you like to come in?”

Your fingers flutter slightly, as if you want to touch him, assure yourself that he’s real but choose not to. He can feel how hesitant you are, he is ashamed at how your home is tinged in grey, the sadness he caused still visible.

There is something off about how you carry yourself, Obi-Wan thinks, you smile as if it’s an afterthought. You are troubled and you do not trust him enough to help you. He does not blame you.

Obi-Wan leans against the counter as you putter about, fixing him a cup of tarine tea. The leaves were expensive and knowing how much he loved it, you made sure your kitchen was well-stocked.

You did so much for him, you opened your heart and home to him. And he reciprocated by insulting you and leaving you in the dust to put yourself together.

Remorse was indeed an emotion.

“Darling, look at me.” _Force, you were beautiful._ You kept up a facade of calm as you waited for his words but he saw the fear in your eyes, felt it too. “I wronged you the last time I was here, and I would like to apologize.”

You blink in surprise and horror rises like bile in his throat as Obi-Wan realizes you did not feel as if you were owed an apology for his vitriol. 

Shaking your head, you smile in that way which is not yours as you try to assure him, “It is not your fault, Obi. I was being selfish." 

Crushing guilt and worry swirls in his chest as he processes your sentence. Something is wrong, and he is the cause of it.

"My dear, I was cruel to you, I hurt you, you cannot hide it from me,” Grasping your hands as you set his tea down, he implores you to listen. “My words were acerbic, I shamed you for wanting nothing other than having me close. You should never have been subjected to that.”

The front that you had so carefully curated, fissures as his hands clasp around yours. _See? See how selfish you are?_

You strain with the effort of not crumbling in his hold. Scolding yourself for the penitence you see in him, you step backwards, the voice in your head anguished when you lose his touch.

“No, Obi-Wan. It was unbecoming of me to hassle you so,” You turn the edges of your mouth upward to comfort him. “Are you staying the night?”

You watch him round the counter and stop in front of you, embarrassed at how your body sings when he grips your arms. 

“It is not unbecoming to need someone, not when you are so _free_ with your love and ask for none in return,” You feel the sudden warmth of his palm against the side of your neck and before you can stop yourself, you _keen_. “Oh darling, look at you. I’m so sorry.”

Your mouth dries as you lean into the touch. Another peculiar sound leaves you as you fist at Obi-Wan’s robes, losing all coherence when he pulls you close.

You don’t know how long he embraces you, numb to the world as he murmurs his apology into your hair. The hand at the juncture of your shoulder and neck moves to your nape, massaging gently. 

Obi-Wan leads you to your bedroom, urging you to lay down as he takes off your clothes, replacing them with his shirt that you repurposed for sleep. He hurts when you whine as he moves away to fold the garments, the sound is heart-wrenching.

“Hush, my darling. I’m right here.” he coos, getting in beside you, heart skipping a beat when you bury your head into his neck.

It’s terrible to hear your words when you mouth them into his skin.

“I’m sorry, Obi. I didn’t mean to be like t-this,” You stutter when you feel his hand clenching at your hip. “I should be helping you.”

“Stop denying yourself comfort, my love. I was callous by pushing you away when you needed it,” He leans down to meet your lips for a kiss. “You deserve the stars. I ask you to accept this.”

It’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you, the ache subsiding as the voice retreats to the recesses of your mind. 


End file.
